Jessup, Wisconsin
by Simahoyo
Summary: A/U Author playing with characters. I moved everyone from the big city to a small town. Meet Deputy Rizzoli, Angela, who runs the town cafe, Computer store owner Barry Frost, H.S. Principal Isles, Mayor Isles, Auto mechanics Frankie and Tommy, and Game Warden Korzak. Someone is coming back to town after a long absence. Winners of game:Allbottledup and afret2010.
1. Chapter 1

Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 1 (AU)

by Simahoyo

**A/N** **I wanted to find out the one thing I could change which would change all the characters the most, so I took them out of the big city, and plopped them down in a small town in Northern Wisconsin. Fortunately, I have lots of sources on Northern Wisconsin so thanks Traci, Mickey, Joan and all in advance.  
**

Spring had finally come to Jessup, Wisconsin, population 6, 452. The snow still stuck around in islands–floating in a sea of mud.. A fresh breeze fluttered over the town while heavy winter coats, hats, boots, scarves, earmuffs and long johns were retired for windbreakers, work boots or rubber gardening boots and a smile. Mudrooms lived up to their names, as family and visitors alike scraped mud off with old table knives, left over from everyday table wear which had seen too many days of tablespoons used to dig holes, and forks thrown into the ground in a modified, less dangerous game of mumblypeg . They left boots and jackets while they went into the kitchen for coffee, a bite to eat and gossip.

That was not the serious gossip, if you wanted to know what was really going on, you went to the Coffee Spot Café, and grabbed a booth. Which booth depended on your interests. The political booth was filled by Mayor Isles, Sheriff Cavanaugh, and Warden Korsak, plus Jim Gantry, the richest farmer in La Follette county, and Minnie Hooper, who owned most of Main Street. If your interest was education, you joined Principal Isles, who was also the mayor's wife, Tom Meyer, the Superintendent of Schools, and Ted Beezley, editor and publisher of Weekly Gazette. Sometimes, when she wasn't trying to get more books for the public library, Hannah Moore, would drop in for a harried half hour before running to the library to get it open and running.

Proprietress, Angela Rizzoli, went from table to table, pouring coffee, feeding everyone, and, "Moming" them. It was natural since her two kids were already grown, and sitting together at their table with their cousin, Tommy, and Frankie's best friend, Barry Frost, who alternated between fending off neighbors who wanted free help with things electronic, and sneaking his glasses on so he could read the Gazette. All of these young ones were good looking, Frankie, Tommy and Barry with dark hair and brown eyes, and all male. Barry was darker than his Italian friends, since he was one of a handful of African-Americans in town. The remaining Rizzoli was sitting there in a brown uniform shirt, tan trousers, a tan tie and a big patch on her sleeve. Black oxfords were on her feet, and her long, curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The Smokey the Bear hat was on her table, and her uniform jacket was draped over the back of her chair. The uniform did everything possible to make her look masculine, but it wasn't possible. She could have been a model in a big city. The men with her were quite a sartorial contrast. The remaining Rizzoli's wore shirt's embroidered Rizzoli's Garage, and Barry's was a golf shirt with a name pin above his pocket.

Then there were the hardcore gossips. Cora Beach, May Swensen, Mattie Krause and Howard Mason. They sat, heads together, voices lowered, and looking around the room. If anything happened in, around, or near Jessup, they knew it, twisted it and spread it. That was a table most people avoided.

Schools was going to start soon, so Principal Isles was out the door after a quick detour to kiss her husband goodbye. Superintendent Meyer looked at her leave with a smile. "Our high school would fall apart without that woman." Ted nodded, then attacked his lumberjack special, steak and fried potatoes with a side of french toast.

"Yup. She's tough enough to keep them in line, and smart enough to keep them interested in school. You shoulda promoted her years ago."

"I couldn't. Her daughter was in school then. And there's a reason she got her nickname, "Mischief."

"Uh huh, but look how she turned out. A pediatrician in Green Bay. I never would have expected..."

"Why not? She was such a smart little thing."

"I kinda thought she might wind up in jail."

Meyer tossed his roll at Ted, who caught it one handed, split and buttered it, then took a big bite,

The door opened and Mo Malamood, the taxi driver (part time) and tow truck driver (Also part time) ran in, rubbing his hands together, a habit he had when he had a great story to share.

He went straight to the table the young Rizzolis plus Barry sat.

"Guess who I gave a ride home from the airport to."

"Celine Dion?", joked Tommy. Mo was a notorious fan."

"No, but, God willing, someday. That woman can sing. It's someone you know."

Barry squinted his big brown eyes. He thought his glasses made him look nerdy, so he never wore them except at work. "Mrs. Alldred?"", naming his elderly neighbor who had gone to Milwaukee to visit her grandchildren.

Mo chuckled. "Deputy Jane, it's someone you knew well."

"Oh? Someone I haven't seen for a while?"

"That's right." Mo dimples as she smiled

"OMG, do you think it might be...Mischief?", asked Frankie.

Mo's eyes twinkled as he touched the tip of his nose with hs finger.

"You're kidding! Where did you drop her off?" Jane picked up her hat and plopped it on, pushed back her chair, put some money down and finished her coffee.

"The High School.

"Thanks Mo. Jane grabbed her jacket and was out the door.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 2

by Simahoyo

**A/N Thanks so much for all reviews, favorites and follows!** You are the 12th man.

Her best friend, rival, protector and confidant since her kindergarten days was back in town. Jane had to keep herself from skipping to the squad car. She drove off toward the High School, suspecting Mischief had gone over to surprise her mother. Then another suspicion crossed her mind.

While in high school, Jane had excelled in track and other sports, while Mischief had walked off with every trophy made for speech and debate. Bt graduation, they had each won five trophies. All through their senior year they had taken turns breaking into the trophy case to move their own trophies to the front, hiding the others in the back.

"She wouldn't, would she?" Jane pulled into the high school parking lot. She ran into the side door, and sneaked up the stairs to the trophy case.

Standing in front of the trophy case was a small blonde woman with a terrific figure, city clothing, high heels and a bobby pin in the lock.

"Step away from the trophy case.", said Jane in her Deputy Sheriff voice.

The blonde turned, grinning. "Jane! Oh wow, look at you–all official. I've missed you." She threw herself at Jane and hugged her. Jane hugged back.

"How's the doctor business?"

"Well, I let my folks persuade me to come back because, apparently Dr. Pike is..."

"Losing his mind. Good. You may have to hit him in the head with a shovel to get him to retire, but he's dangerous with–is it Alzheimers?"

"I haven't examined him, but, if everything works out, I'll be staying."

"That's great!"

"I came by to surprise Mom. Want to help?"

"Yup. Want me to go in and keep her busy..."

"While I sneak into an empty desk? Yes."

This was one they had cooked up their sophomore year to cover tardiness.' Jane tapped on Mrs. Isles' classroom door, and opened it. Mrs. Isles looked up, her eyebrows raised, while she looked a bit worried.

"Sorry to interrupt. I was driving past and I saw a white pickup with its lights on. The door is locked...So...anyone here..."

A large male student with blonde hair and a Jessup High Lumberjacks T shirt over his jeans jumped up and ran for the door. Mischief slipped in during the confusion and got into a back desk. Jane stooped the kid in the hall and whispered, "Relax, it's a joke."

Jane peeked in and waited until Mrs. Isles looked up and noticed her daughter sitting in back.

"Maura Dorthea Isles, come up to the front and hug your mother."

As Mischief /aka Maura approached her desk, Mrs. Isles stood and hugged her. The two clung for a while, then Mischief stood back as her mother looked her over.

"You look good. Thank you for coming back. We've missed you."

Mischief ducked her head, suddenly bashful. Jane sent to owner of the truck back in then wandered in behind him, looking innocent.

"I should have known the two of you were up to your old tricks. So, I have an assignment for the two of you. I want a short presentation from each of you on your career–an instant career day. Class, I'd like you to take notes."

The class groaned. Mrs. Isles nodded at Jane to go first.

"I'm deputy sheriff. I cover most of La Follette county, everything from reporting missing children to digging cars out of snow drifts to dealing with traffic accidents. I have seen some bad ones, especially during rutting season. Be careful around deer crossings–the worst one I ever saw was a car that hit it moose. Nobody made it but the moose. We don't have a lot of crime like in the city, but sometimes people get to drinking too much and get mad, and I have to pull them apart. Oh, and the Sheriff and I found a still in the woods once making white lightning. Watch out for that, it can literally make you go blind. So we chopped it up with axes. Any questions?"

A skinny kid with burning eyes held up his hand, waving it.

"Yeah."

"You ever shoot anyone?"

"Nope. It isn't that dangerous or exciting–if that's what you want, you want to be a game warden."

A girl with frizzy hair who looked like a Rhys raiser her hand. "Why is that job dangerous?"

"People who hunt out of season or trap animals with cruel traps, or trap the ones that are protected tend to carry rifles and shoot at the wardens. The worst ever happened to me was getting hit in the head with a two by four."

Now no more hands were raised, so Mischief took over. She still could command and audience. She stood, and every eyes was on her.

"I decided to become a doctor when my little brother died. I was five and he was two. He had suddenly gotten sick and my parents rushed him to the hospital. They came back two days later without him. I didn't know what happened–only that he wasn't there anymore and everyone was very sad. I discovered later that he had eaten the berries from a deadly nightshade plant. That's when I felt a drive to work with children. So I went to medical school at the University of Wisconsin, and interned in Marshfield. I've been practicing in Green Bay. Now I intend to open an office in Jessup. I'll treat anyone eighteen or younger. You if you sprain and ankle at football practice, of trip trying to jump a hurdle that's too high for you..." She looked at Jane, who blushed furiously...See me as soon as I find an office. Are there any questions?"

Hands went up all over the room. Jane wondered again how she did that–open her moiuth and weave a spell.

Mischief called on a black-haired boy with big feet.

"Does that mean we don't have to go to Doctor Pike?"

"Not unless your parents choose him."

"I don't think they would."

A girl with blonde braids and braces was next. "What was college like?"

"It was scary. I'd never been anyplace bigger than Duluth, and I always had my family with me, so when I got to my dorm room, I was half panicked. My roommate was from a small town too, so we couldn't even help each other. Then we got a visitor. Do any of you know Ritchie Hale?

Several nodded.

"He was great. He organized a tour for everyone from Jessup, or any other small town. He lead us around and explained things we didn't learn in orientation, like how the bus system worked. And now, he has a handbook you can buy called, 'University Survival for Small Town Students.' It's great. I really recommend it."

"Was university hard?"

Jane laughed. "She's not the one to ask. She always got straight A's."

"No I didn't. I never got above a B in gym class."

Jane would have bet the kid with thr brown face and nose like a pharaoh was Mo's. "Shelly will be fine then. She's the smartest one in our class."

"Well, Shelly, you will actually have to study and the books will take longer to read. It won't take long to figure out what the professors want from you."

Just then the bell rang and instead of tearing out of the room, some stayed to talk to Mischief. Jane was impressed. She still had it, and yet she was no longer the ringleader up to her eyeballs in Mischief. She gave sound advise. And, her citified looks gave her some sort of authority Jane's uniform couldn't match.

After the kids cleared out, Mrs. Isles hugged her daughter again, while resting one hand on Jane's shoulder.

"So, are you going to surprise you father too?"

"I'm sure he already knows. So, I'll run up to your house and cook dinner if you like."

"I'm afraid you'll have to drop by the Piggly Wiggly. I didn't go shopping.

"Write me a list. I'll see if Mo can take me."

Mrs. Isles was writing her grocery list when Jane told Mischief , "Hey, I can take you unless I get a call. That way we can catch up."


	3. Chapter 3

Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 3

by Simahoyo

**a/n Thanks again for all the favorites, follows and reviews. It makes me want to write more. If you are squeamish about** **the use of guns, this could be not so fun for you**.

At the Piggly Wiggly, they grabbed a cart and started in on the list. They had gotten elbow macaroni, stewed tomatoes, some onions, green peppers, cheddar cheese and kidney beans, two loaves of bread, cotto salami, some tuna and then they ran into May Swenson and Mattie Krause. Jane groaned inwardly. Those two had made her mother's life miserable when her father had taken off with the blonde bimbo.

"Well, hello Miss Isles. And Jane. Are you moving back here to Jessup?"

Mischief gave them a fake smile. "Doctor, and yes, I'm opening a practice here for the children."

May pressed her lips together. "Won't that cut into our own Doctor Pike's business, dearie?"

"Well, May, I work mainly with small children. I understand he prefers an, 'older and less squirmy clientele.'" Jane hid a smile. She was quoting the doctor word for word.

"And Jane, have you heard from your father?" Jane narrowed her eyes, wishing murder was not so illegal.

"No, I have not."

The two gossips exchanged a look and wandered off. Jane growled to herself.

"Well, they haven't changed. So, Jane, where do you live now?"

"I have an apartment over Marge's Dress Shop."

"Sounds nice."

"Way better than over McKenzies Bar, huh? The only good thing about that would be I wouldn't have much of a commute to break up bar fights."

Mischief grinned at her. Doug Speevy was sneaking up behind her and Jane waited to see what might happen. Mischief had been living in the big city for years. When Doug touched her shoulder, she spun with her elbow out, stopping just short of his nose.

"Oh my God! Doug, I almost broke your nose. I'm so sorry." Her hand had flown up to her mouth and she looked contrite as hell. Considering he had been homecoming king to her homecoming queen, it was more than awkward.

Then Doug leaned down and kissed Mischief and all was well–maybe. Jane suspected Mischief hadn't exactly sworn off men while living away from Jessup. Neither of the two women lead a celibate lifestyle, only Jane was more squeamish about discussing it.

"God, I've missed you. Are you staying?"

"Yes, I am. Are you still single?"

Doug blushed so his ears were red. "Separated. Brenda took off with a title searcher."

Mischief's face showed both relief and sympathy. "God, that's rough. I'm sorry Doug."

"But you're back. You're not engaged or anything, are you"

"No, I was too busy to get that serious with anyone."

Doug grinned from ear to ear. "So, you staying with your folks?"

Mischief's fluttered her lashes. "Yes, same phone number and everything."

"Good. I'll call you later." He walked away, turning to wave at her.

"That was fast.", said Jane.

"Yup. So, who are you seeing?"

"I don't think you know him. He lives over in Iron River."

"As I remember, you had a thing for ball players–baseball, am I right?"

"Uh, yes. He's on the town team. Pitcher."

Mischief patted her shoulder. "Good. He'd better be nice. Or I could get nasty."

"His name is Jeff Wieser. Get's a ton of flack about his name. But he's cute and kind of sweet."

"Good. I'm not afraid to go after any guy that doesn't treat you right.'

Jane felt herself blush. "I know. Bill Jensen was too dumb to be scared of you when you chased after him. Remind me never to get you mad at me."

"I'll never hit you. You're like my sister. I will tease you though. And you can't die of embarrassment. Let's finish this list before any more people accost us."

Three sacks of groceries later, Jane helped Mischief in with all the groceries, hugged her friend and went back to patrolling.

It's a good thing she did. She was driving past the new houses on Bailey street when she heard shots. She parked her squad car and called it in, then ran to the sound.

A short, blonde, freckled boy was shooting at some bushes.

"Hold it right there, hot shot."

He stopped, braced himself to run, then didn't.

"I wasn't doing nothing."

"You were doing something, Eric Haas. Where did you get that beebee gun?"

"Borrowed it."

"Who from?"

"My cousin."

"Which cousin?"

"Edwin Cooper."

"Suppose I was to ask him? What do you think he would say?"

"Uh, I don't know." He hid the gun behind his back.

"Ley's go ask him."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. Come on, let's get it over with."

She walked him to the Cooper house and rang the doorbell. Marty Cooper opened the door, still covered with sawdust from work. He looked exhausted.

"Sorry Marty. My young friend tells me that Edwin gave him his beebee gun to use. Show him, Eric."

Eric held up the gun. Marty's eyes widened. "Hell no, you little rascal. Nobody trained you. You haven't had your gun safety class–which you are too young for anyways and if Edwin gave it to you, he's in real trouble. Hand it over."

Giving the gun a last, longing look, the boy gave it to his uncle. "I'm sorry Uncle Marty."

As they walked back, Jane decided she needed to nip this in the bud.

"You been watching, "A Christmas Story?"

Eric nodded.

"Okay, I get it. Tell you what, here's my card. You can joint me Saturday at 2 o'clock at the shooting range, and I'll teach you the safe way to handle a beebee gun. How's that?"

Eric grinned and jumped up and down. He was a veru enthusiastic kid. "Yeah. Oh wow, that's great."

"You won't forget, will you?"

"No." His face fell. "What about Mom?"

"I'll talk to her." That might be hard. The poor woman had two jobs since her husband died.

"Thanks! I won't hook anybody else's gun, I promise." and he crossed his heart.

They parted happily, while Jane made personal notes that would never make it into the official reports. These types of incidents were kept out of the official public record to allow children and teens to change as they grew up. Jane knew all about this system. She'd had a few of those reports herself.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Jessup, Wisconsin ,Chapter 4

by Simahoyo

Mischief was making Wisconsin chili–it was obvious what her mother had in mind from the shopping list. She fried up extra lean ground beef with onions, and added the cooked macaroni. It was easy to open the kidney beans and stewed tomatoes and sure enough there was garlic in the fridge and chili powder in the cupboard.

While she was exploring, she took out some cheddar and grated it into a small bowl. Then she checked the clock on the microwave. It was nearly time for her mother to show up. She heard the car, smiling to herself since her mother drove a Volkswagen diesel so her science class could learn how to make biodiesel fuel. Her dad, on the other hand, drove a four year old chevy to support the GM plant four counties over. He had a thing about outsourcing.

The door opened and her mother walked in with her bouncing steps. That meant a great mood.

"Hi, darling. I love that you got every thing done. Want me to throw together a salad? You still like mine, don't you? "

She reached over and gave Mischief a hug and kiss, then she opened the crisper and pulled out come romaine lettuce, onion–changed her mind, and got a shallot, then some carrots. She worked on the salad as Mischief set the table.

"How was school?"

"Not bad They really responded to you."

"Well, I've given that speech ten times. It's still a little hard to talk about. Especially in front to you."

"I don't cry through it anymore. But it's still difficult."

"It's why I'm a doctor. So, Mom, do you think Doctor Pike will get really angry? If he has Alzheimers, he might cause some problems."

"Well, if he does, it's a good thing your best friend is a deputy sheriff.."

"I hope I don't have to defend myself. I might hurt him."

"Oh Darling, maybe we shouldn't have signed you up for karate lessons."

Mischief heard her father's car and she jumped up. She hadn't seen him in five years. The minute he stepped in, she attacked.

"Hi, Daddy!" She threw her arms around him and hugged. He returned the hug and kissed her forehead.

"Maura! When I heard you were back, I could hardly wait to see you. Let me look at you." He held her out at arm's length and appraised her.

"Still the second most beautiful woman in Jessup. Did you grow? Nope, high heels. And look at that outfit–so professional."

"Oh Daddy. How are you? Is your cholesterol down?"

"Yes, doctor."

"Are you eating more fiber, cutting fatty foods?"

"Yes Doctor. My meals are being monitored by your mother and you know what that means."

"She won't let you get away with anything."

"She even told Angela on me. No more bacon, no butter, no gravy."

"I'll have to thank her. And thank you, Mom."

"I'm selfish, I'd like him around for a very long time." She leaned over and kissed him.

Mischief filled a crystal pitcher with water from the tap. She took her seat, and waited while her parents took theirs.

"Oh, chili. Good, I was hoping for some tonight. Had a difficult day. Those bozos who want to log off the top of the Roy Chapman Andrews State Forest were bending my ear all day. I hate reading fake environmental studies. Didn't they ever check to see what I majored in at college?"

Mischief drank half her glass of water. "Still the best water in the state. I've missed it so much. I saw Doug at the Piggly Wiggly. He said he and Brenda have separated."

Mrs. Isles looked uncomfortable. "Yes. Brenda has moved to Wausau. It's too bad.

"He told me she left with another man."

Mrs. Isles speared some salad with her fork. She was not one to gossip in a town where everyone else did.

"I suppose she did."

"Sorry Mom, He may call me here. I just thought I'd warn you."

""Oh? Are you meeting with Minnie Hooper tomorrow to find an office?"

"I expect to phone her tomorrow. I may want to tread lightly with Dr. Pike around."

"Good idea. You might want to get him to draw a clock." Her father's face was serious.

"Is he that bad?"

"He forgets to go to his office some days. His receptionist has to go get him. He can't remember people's names-even ones he has treated for years. He loses his temper when he never used to..."

"I probably should drop by. I don't like that list of symptoms."

The telephone rang. Mischief raised her eyebrows at her father.

"I'm not here."

"When do you expect to be back?"

"After dessert."

Mischief picked up the telephone.

" Isles residence, Maura speaking." Her face lit up. "Oh Doug. It's nice to hear from you. I'm just settling in. I still need to unpack."

She turned away from her parents. "Well, tomorrow will be busy, but Friday night is free. She laughed lightly. "I haven't been there in years. Yes, it's a good idea. Do you want to pick me up at my folk's house. Seven PM? I'll look forward to it. Bye Doug."

When she turned back, her father rolled his eyes. "Not even a whole day, and the phone calls start again."

"Well, its not as if I'm seventeen anymore."

"Then why the same fella you dated when you were seventeen?"

"There aren't many choices around here."

"Darling, once you get established you can meet every man within driving distance. It's how I met your father, after all."

"First I need to find an office. I'll call Mrs. Hooper in the morning." TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 5

**A/N** Long one, but it sets up a lot of plot. Watch out for a little game I set up. In this story are clues to something I have done especially for fun. First one to figure it out get a mention in the A/N.

After phoning Minnie Hooper, Mischief agreed to meet her at her real estate office. It was nearly 10:30 before the door to Hooper Real Estate's doors opened. Cheri Page was the receptionist, secretary and escrow officer. She was also the official gatekeeper for Mrs. Hooper.

"Are you Doctor Isles?"

"Yes. I have a ten thirty appointment."

Cheri looked at her calendar. "Yes. I see. Please sit down and I'll tell her you are here."

Mischief took a chair. The office was functional, but Spartan. The blinds were drawn to discourage window shopping for gossip.

After Cheri rang Mrs. Hooper, the door opened to the back office and Minnie Hooper motioned to Mischief to come on in. Then she shut the door.

"Hello, Doctor. Please sit down."

Mischief sat in a real leather chair. The carpet was done right, with padding, stretched, made of thick wool with invisible seams at the door.

"I'm so relieved that someone competent is willing to replace poor Doctor Pike. So, you said you need a ground floor office and an upstairs apartment. How many examining rooms do you need?"

"I would like three, since there always seems to be an emergency with children."

Minnie wrote on 3x5 cards. She pushed her glasses up, and looked at Mischief again.

"I believe you want a waiting room?" Her thin lips were pressed together.

"Yes. Families often come in together. And an office. Plenty of closets. I need an amazing amount of supplies–bandages, gauze, paper gowns, sharps containers..."

Minnie held up a thin hand. "I get the idea. You'll want a lot of light–so windows?"

"I hadn't thought of that, but yes. And an apartment upstairs for me."

"And how much were you planning to spend?"

"I hope not quite $200,000. I need to have good heat too."

I can imagine with children as most of your patients." Minnie opened a card file and looked through it. "You'll want parking and room for an ambulance in case of an emergency?"

"Yes."

Minnie held up four cards. "These are the most likely. Let's take a look, shall we?"

Mischief followed her as she breezed down the sidewalk. Three blocks later, they stood in front of a store front. Red brick, a glass door opening straight into a flight a stairs–steep ones. All she could imagine was mothers falling to their deaths with babes in their arms.

"The stairs go to the apartment. The office part is here." Minnie opened the door on the right. A large open room could be easily divided into three examining rooms, a counter ran along one wall and a stagearea was up against the window.

"There is a rest room in the back." Minnie lead the way. It was clean, but very small. They went back to the stairs, and climbed them. "It's good for your heart, I hear.", said Minnie.

The apartment upstairs was old fashioned, with a tiny kitchen, a small frige, a gas stove, and a single sink. The bathroom had a shower only, and the bedroom was too small for a double bed.

"I don't think so. I'll need more room."

Minnie shrugged and they went on to a side street with a small parking lot. There was a stoop and inside the wooden sided building was a room just the right size for a waiting room, with a picture window facing outside. Down a hall were three former bedrooms with closets, a bathroom with a tub, and a small kitchen. Mischief was impressed.

"Now, the apartment isn't upstairs, it's downstairs." They went down some stairs and into a big, clean kitchen with full sized appliances, and a nice linoleum floor. There were plenty of cupboards, counter space and room for a big table and chairs.

"I'm impressed so far."

Minnie smiled, "Then wait until you see the rest." They passed a laundry room with doors that closed on the way to the bathroom with a tub and shower, and a nice clean sink and cabinets with towel bars.

"So far, I like it."

"And here we have the bedroom. Minnie opened the door to what must have been a master bedroom. It was light and had a big closet.

"How is it heated?"

"Well, there is electric baseboard heating, with solar panels in the roof to suplimet the heat upstairs."

"And how much is this?"

Minnie's eyes went innocent. "Uh oh", thought Mischief. "Well, it's just a bit over budget."

"And how much would that be?"

"Two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars." Mischief coughed in shock.

"Couldn't your folks help you out?"

"They already helped me with Medical Schools and I just finished paying them back. Could I offer $200,000 and hope they'll take it?"

"I've known you your whole life. I'd be willing to bet you have a rainy day fund hidden away someplace. It's raining."

"That's the trouble with coming back to my hometown. I don't have any furniture, or supplies, or money to hire help. And you have two more cards."

Minnie grinned at her, showing her perfect dentures. I'll have to drive you. There's one on Frank Lloyd Wright Road."

They pulled up to a cinder block building, painted white, with a gravel parking lot and room for about eight cars. There was a concrete stoop, and a wooden ramp for wheelchairs. Mischief was impressed so far.

"This used to be a bank, but it failed a coupke of years ago. The lawsuits are all settled now."

Minnie unlocked the door. There was a small waiting room, six large cubicals, a nice office and a restroom next to a storage area. Everything was in good shape.

"The bank had a guard who lived here at night."

They went down some stairs and into a small living room, a tidy kitchen, with space for appliances, and a full bathroom, with an old fashioned tun with a shower curtain surrounding it. Mischief had nothing to say–yet.

The bedroom wasn't large, but had room for a double bed and dresser–and a closet bigger than what she had feared.

"It uses gas heat upstairs and a heat exchanger downstairs."

Mischief smiled. "You really are on top of things."

Minnie smiled, then checked her card. "I believe you will like the price...One hundred and thirty thousand dollars–firm. But I can get them to pay closing costs. This has been sitting empty, costing the owners money.

"Well, okay, then. Baring any problems, I'll take it."

Mr. Isles had taught his daughter not to be overly trusting when it came to contracts. He was stuck in meetings all day, so she went by the La Follette County courthouse, and peeked in the Recorder's office. There were five title searchers standing around the counter reading the platt books. To make their identity absolutely clear, she noted the calculators, yellow legal pads and six-sided rulers. She looked for one who was just closing his book and pounced.

"Hi, I need some title advise and I'm not a real estate person looking for free searches."

The tall red-haired man turned and smiled at her. His gaberdine slacks and polished shoes, plus the long sleeves dress shirt and cell phone in his pocket proved his identity.

"Okay–I missed lunch again, so let's run downstairs and I can grab a sandwich." He turned off his cell phone. "Blamed office calls every ten minutes anyway."

They sat in the tiny cafeteria. He ate his sandwich while she asked questions.

"I'm buying a house. How long does it usually take?"

H e considered. "If it's an easy search just a couple of days... however long the inspection takes. It's the search is a mess, just the search can take a week or more. They always tell you to come in for the closing, but keep in mind they gave us the search about an hour before, then call every fifteen minutes. It's a wonder none of us have snapped and gone over and strangled the escrow officer. Oh, watch out because they forget to fill out your paperwork. If I had a dollar for every date, stamp or signature I had to fill in, I could have retired already."

Mischief frowned. "Why do they do that?"

"I have no idea. You seem nice, just take everything they tell you–timewise, with a block of salt."

Mischief grinned. "Dairy farm?"

"Yup. My folks had a herd of Brown Swiss and a couple of Gurnseys."

"My grandparents had Holsteins and some Jerseys."

"How about that. I'm based in Superior. I come out here a couple of times a month." His voice was hopeful and he was cute. Title searchers were a bit gypsy like, but they had to be smart to deal with all that legal work.

"I'm a doctor. I'm setting up a practice here. Do you have a card?"

He dug a card carrier out of his pocket and handed her one.

"Lennis Pattersen?"

"It's a family name."

Mischief bug in her purse and took out a tiny notebook, writing, and handing it to him"

"Maura Isles?"

"It's a family name. That's my parent's phone number until I get settled.

"Okay. I'd better turn my cell phone on again and get back to the salt mine. Nice to meet you. Please, call if you have any questions–or just like my eye color."

"I will. And I do like your eye color."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 6

By Simahoyo

A/N Hint. Geography.

When Jane got the call she nearly drove off the Hiway. Warden Korsak was in the hospital with a bad gunshot wound. She turned around and headed back.

The Golda Mier Hospital had three squad cars parked in the lot. Obviously Sheriff Cavenaugh was there, and the one with bullet holes in it was marked La Follette County Game Warden. The other squad car was from the Wilder County game warden. Jane knew her south county counterpart was doing double duty, as she did when they had an emergency down there. She added her car to the others and ran into the hospital–right to the information desk.

She recognized the nurse at the counter, but that was all. Her mind was on the well-being of her friend.

"Warden Korsak–where is he?" Jane was wheezing, which only happened when she was upset.

"He's being operated on right now."

"Oh God, who is doing it?"

Doctor Randell, from Wilder County. She's a specialist. You can wait in the upstairs waiting room."

Jane tore up the stairs and stopped when she saw the forest green and light grey uniforms of the Game Wardens. Sheriff Cavenaugh looked up, and came over. Jane refused to lose it. She tried to blot out the memories of Korsak caring for orphan fawns and baby ducklings. She blinked hard to keep tears from falling.

"What happened?"

"Poachers, it looks like. I think we need to get him some help. It's too much for one man."

"But where? Don't they have to take some classes or something?"

"I'll ask around. The guys from Wilder county know. You can help by running the evidence down to the crime lab in Wausau."

Jane swallowed. It was good to be doing something important. "Yeah, I'll do that. Where is it?"

"In our safe. Jill will get it for you and you can sign the chain of custody papers. Watch your driving. We are all depending on you."

"Wait, what about the bullet?"

"It was in the tree behind him."

When Tommy walked into the garage for work, Frankie was already pulling the engine out of Mrs. Haas' single mom car.

"Whoa! That bad?"

"Yup. It's gonna cost her an arm and a leg, so I'm dumping this one and swapping it out for the one in the junker out back."

"Good idea. They're both GMC and the same year."

"I checked. It will fit. Help me get this on the hand truck."

The two wrestled the heavy engine onto the hand truck and out to the engine they needed.

Standing and looking at the problem, Frankie's eyes lit up first. He opened the door, sat in the driver's seat, popped the brake, and put the car in neutral.

"Good thinkin', Lincoln. Tommy got behind the car and pushed. No movement. Frankie stood with one foot on the ground and one in the car, steering wheel in hand.

"One, two, three."

They pushed so hard they grunted, and the car took off. Frankie sat fast, steering to get it as close to where they needed it as they could.

Frankie put on the parking brake. Tommy chocked the wheels.

"TA Da! The Amazing Rizzolis!", bragged Tommy.

As they pulled the engine, Tommy told his news.

"Ma said Korsak's in the hospital. He got shot out by the Les Paul Cutoff."

"Jeeze! Who was it?"

"Nobody knows. He got hurt bad. They had to operate. He'll be okay, but out of commission for a while."

"Man that is no job for a guy his age. Maybe I should so to school and become a warden. Maybe help him out. But it took Janie two years –and she's smart."

"Frankie, you're not dumb. You always got better grades than me."

"I could tear myself away from the boob tube on school nights."

"Hey, I learn stuff on TV. There's a reward out for film or video of any dogheaded man..."

"God! Not the dogheaded man again. It's just a tall tale.:

"Wilmer Elliott seen one."

"Willmer Elliott is a drunk."

"I put cameras all over in the woods to catch one, and I'm gonna get the reward and ask Lydia to marry me."

They worked quietly for a few minutes. Then Frankie looked thoughtful. "Got cameras near where Korsak was shot?"

"Hell yeah. Maybe they got it. Let's finish this job up, and I'll get Barry and we'll see."

Several hours later, clean and grease free, the Amazing Rizzolis walked into Frost's Electronic Emporium. Barry was putting the electronic guts back into a karoke machine. He was wearing his glasses.

"He doesn't look nerdy in glasses. He looks smart.", whispered Frankie. Barry looked up and smiled.

"Hey guys, What's up?"

"You heard about Korsak?"

Barry shook his head sadly. "Yeah. That's bad. Poor guy."

"We have an idea. You know those cameras I bought?"

Barry nodded again.

"Some of them are where Korsak got shot. Maybe they got something."

Barry dropped his work, excited. "Did you bring your laptop?"

Tommy put the laptop on the counter. Barry expertly had it up and running in seconds.

As they watched, a skunk meandered past, the next image wasa deer, then a grouse. The next one made all three friends drop their jaws.

"I told you there were dogheaded men around here1" yelled Tommy.

"Why's he dressed like anybody off the street?" asked Barry.

"I don't know."

"And why is he carrying a hunting rifle?", asked Frankie.

"Whoa! There's Korsak over by that tree."

"Lookout, man, he's pointing his rifle at you!"

The computer showed the shot, and Korsak falling. Then the shooter took off his dog mask and they could see his face.

"That's the hermit that lives in the woods!", said Frankie. He reached for his cell phone. "Who do I call?"

"Call the sheriff. He's got to see this. I'll save it to a disk for him." Barry worked on making a copy while Frankie called the sheriff.

"Jill, hi, This is Frankie Rizzoli. I'm over at the computer store with Barry and my cousin. Tommy's trail camera picked up the shooting. Yeah, for real! Send the sheriff, okay? Yeah, yeah okay. Thanks!"

"He'll be right over. Guys–I think we did a good thing here."

"I agree. Leave those cameras up, Tommy. You never know.

"Maybe I'll catch a real dogheaded man."


	7. Chapter 7

Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 7

by Simahoyo

**A/N Clue: Lafollette, Wilder and Farber counties are fictional. So are all but one town name in them. Iron River is real.**

When Jane got back to the sheriff's office, half the hunters in La Follette County were gathered with wardens from Wilder and Farber counties. Sheriff Cavenaugh had a big map of the woods with him, plus a picture of the old hermit that lived out there.

"What going on?"

Jill answered. "Frankie, Tommy and Barry got a video of the shooting. We know who it was, and we are organizing a man hunt. I'm assigning the teams. You should lead one."

"Sure, anything for Korsak. Got my area marked?"

Jill handed her the map.

"I know some of this. Been hunting up there. Who's with me?"

Jill pointed to two guys with dogs and a woman who worked at the sawmill, then handed Jane some maps and instructions.

Jane went over. "I guess you're my team. I'm Deputy Rizzoli."

"Sam Beacher. I'm from Moorehead. My dog is a good tracker." Jane nodded at him and turned to the others.

"Sophie Bains. I work at the saw mill."

"I've seen you around."

"Winton Short. My dog barks like crazy when he corners anything."

"Okay. Where you from?"

"Ingalls." It was the county seat of Wilder County.

"Okay, let's actually read these instructions–or they might turn into distructions."

They read quietly for a few minutes. When everyone looked up, Jane asked, " Everyone have a cell phone?" They all nodded.

"How about a compass? I know I don't."

"I have a GPS.", said Winton.

"Even better. I'll check and see if we can get compasses."

Jane went to Jill's dest, and Jill reached into a drawer and handed her three compasses.

"You're amazing."

Jill laughed.

"Okay, it's gonna be a tight squeeze, but we'll take my squad car."

Jane was happy to share a dogless front seat with Sophie. Two men and two dogs were stuffed into the back. The dogs had plenty to say about it.

Jane drove up to the deer trail closest to her search area. She checked her gun.

"He's armed, so stay in sight of each other ok? We'll walk from right here, which is here on your map." She showed them as they looked over her shoulder. "And we'll stop here and check in and re-group. If you find anything, sing out."

The two dog owners spread out pretty far, and let their dogs lead. Sophie raised an eyebrow at Jane.

"Start at that pine with the funny looking branches."

She nodded, and went where Jane pointed. They walked slowly, checking the ground for disturbances. It was muddy, so prints might show. Every few minutes, she looked for her team members. She could see Sophie, and barely glimpsed Winton, but Sam was out pretty far. She just had to trust him and his dog.

They had gone quite a way when Jane heard her cell.

"Rizzoli." It was Sam. He had found something.

"Stop right there. I'll come over." She found a limestone rock big enough to mark her place, motioned to Sophie and Winton to wait and went to see what Sam had found.

The dog was poised near a broken twig, with a partial footprint. Jane photographed it with her cell phone.

"Good work. Keep going and we'll spread out to your sides a little closer." Jane motioned to Sam and Sophie, and got them searching again.

They eased along until Sophie stopped. She put her hand up, then pointed. Jane went to check and found a little bit of camo cloth on a blackberry sticker. The leaves were pulled in one direction.

They all seemed to feel they were closer. They were very quiet. Suddenly Jane smelled a fire–and food cooking. She could see smoke off about five hundred feet ahead. She motioned them to gather, and pointed at the smoke.

Their voices were so quiet it was hard to hear each other.

"You with the barking dog. If you go right toward the fire, but wait until we have surrounded it. "Who has a gun?"

They all did. Jane nodded, and the three worked their way around the fire. They all knew what the man they were hunting looked like. Ikt would be a disasterif it was a scout troop instead. They moved in closer, and closer.

The dog started barking like mad. A man stood up and started running right at Jane. She got out her gun.

"Hold it! Do not move! Sheriff's office!"

The old guy's long greasy hair and ratty beard showed over some willow shrubs.

"Drop your weapon and raise your hands over your head."

He put his hands up, holding still. Jane moved in closer.

"There are four of us, all armed." Jane walked closer, noticing both Sam and Sophie with guns trained on him. The barking kept up. Jane pulled plastic cuffs out her belt, and came close.

"It's the guy in the picture. You're under arrest for shooting a Game Warden while preforming his duty. Turn around." Jane lowered her gun, put on the safety, and cuffed her prisoner. Then she phoned the office.

"WE got him. I'm taking him to my squad car. Parked in the designated spot. I'll wait for someone to take him in, then my team and I will report in Yeah. They did great!"

After the arrest, the reports, and sending people home who wanted to go, everyone else sent for pizza and beer from Flying Pie. It was decompression time.

The Amazing Rizzolis and Barry were duly toasted for their detective work and now they were working their way through some pepperoni pizza with Jane ans Sophie.

"I've been thinking.", said Frankie. "Warden Korsak needs back up. I checked and I could qualify to be a warden in two years. If I went to school in Wausau, I could do it."

"That's a hella commute. And who is gonna work with me at the garage?"

"I don't know. Post a sign in the window, Tommy."

"Dude, we can't breakup the Amazing Rizzolis.":

Jane rolled her eyes. "You aren't that amazing without Barry."

Barry grinned at the compliment. "I feel amazing."

"I think Frankie would be a really good game warden. He knows the woods, he's a good shot...remember that bee bee gun you used to have?"

"Yeah. It's still down in the cellar omeplace."

"I promised a kid I'd teach him to shoot one. Okay if I use it?"

'Yeah, it's just gathering dust. Ma probably knows which box it's in."

"And Tommy, just put a sign in the window. The High School has a good class in auto mechanics. You aced it."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Jessup, Wisconsin Chapter 8

**Long, but lots happening.**

**Clue: It's more than counties. Check city names, Streets, public places...One of you is very, very close to the answer.**

Saturday was one busy day. Jane searched her mother's cellar for two hours before she located her brother's bee bee gun.

She took it out back and used a side of the garage to test it on the little target she found in the box. It worked, and there were plenty of bee bees. Then she grabbed lunch with Mischief for an update. They headed over to the Farm Table so Mischief could eat something healthy.

The big communal tables might have been fun. But they wanted to talk to each other, not half the county. They wound up at a table for two. Since Jane wasn't working (She traded off with the South County deputy, he worked Saturday, and he worked Sunday) and was out of uniform. Mischief was wearing designer jeans, a silk blouse and a pea coat. She actually had on flats. That amused Jane, who was used to her friend's efforts to make up for her father's short genes.

After they ordered, the news flowed.

"Korsak is better. His arm is going to hurt a lot and the wardens from Wilder County will fill in for a while..."

"He could have been killed. He is the nicest man. I remember taking a duck somebody shot with an arrow to his office, and he was able to save the duck."

"Yeah, I remember that. Frankie is talking about taking the Criminal Justice classes in Wausau so he can become a warden. That takes two years. And how's he going to pay for it?"

"I don't know. He got decent grades. Is there a scholarship? I read somewhere about one through the Sons of Italy."

"I'll tell him. And if I know Frankie, he has something socked away. He was always serious about Bank Day at school."

Mischief closed her menu. "My news is, I'm buying an office on Frank Lloyd Write Road."

Jane's jaw dropped. "Wow! That was fast. Will you be staying with your folks?"

"Mom always said that 'God never intended for two grown women to occupy the same kitchen." There's an apartment under the office."

"Cool. I'll help you move. Just let me know."

"I will. So, you have a shooting lesson later?"

"Yup. Gonna teach a kid how not to endanger the whole neighborhood. He's too young for the classes, but my guess it that he watched, "A Christmas Story" once too often."

"You'll shoot your eye out."

"Not after I'm done with him."

**Go Lumberjacks!**

Frankie was in front of his laptop investigating costs for his AA in Criminal Justice. His first semester would run $2,513 plus books, plus room and board. That would be painful. He had savings, which he thought it would do much further, and time was an issue. He had seven thousand saved. That got his tuition handled, but there was all the rest. If he moved home and sponged off his Ma, he might get another couple of thousand. He was afraid of student loans–he had heard too much about them from friends who were now trying to pay them off. Frankie googled Wausau rents. He was choking at the prices. A weird idea floated into his mind. He dismissed it. It came back like a pesky fly. "Ma would kill me. So would Janie. It would save a ton of money."

He thought about it some more. He wrote an email, deleted it, wrote it again, tapped the finger on his desk and hit send. It was hard to breathe. He called his sister on her cell phone.

"Hey Frankie, I'm on my way to the shooting range. Make it short."

"I might have emailed Pop to ask if I could stay with him and Jeanette while I go to school."

Silence went on for a long time, then, "Are you insane?"

"Maybe. But it's really expensive. I can do tuition and books, but I can't pay rent. And I know you don't have it."

"When I get back, you and I are going to talk."

Frankie's voice was barely there."Okay."

Jane hung up, yelled and hit the steering wheel, then took a deep breath. By the time she arrived at the shooting range, an eager Eric Haas was waiting at the counter. He was grinning from ear to ear. It melted away all her anger at Frankie. Eric eyed the bee bee gun.

"Is that a real Red Ryder bee bee gun?"

"Yes. It was my brother's when he was about your age." Jane paid for an hour and had everything adjusted for Eric's height.

"Okay. Rules. Memorize these. A gun is a tool, like a hammer or a saw. It is not a toy. Eric solemnly repeated her words.

"Never, ever point a gun at a human being or where one might be."

"What about on TV?"

"That's not real. It's pretend–like cap guns, only better looking."

Eric nodded. Jeeze. I never knew that."

"Never shoot at anybody else's property."

"What about stop signs and stuff? That doesn't belong to anybody."

"Eric, when you buy stuff at the store, does your Mom ever complain about taxes?"

"Yeah, all the time."

"Taxes from everybody in town pays for stop signs and lights and my pay for being a deputy. So, those signs belong to everyone in town. And I work for everybody in the county."

"So, no shooting other people's stuff."

"Right. And no shooting animals until you are big enough to go hunting and pass your gun safety test. And don't ever go hunting alone."

"That's lots to remember."

"If you forget, ask me and I'll remind you. Now, let's load the bee bees."

Jane showed Eric where the safety was and how to use it, then how to load the bee bees. Next she demonstrated how to pull the lever and aim, then shoot.

When she handed the gun to Eric, he was nearly salivating. He aimed, and pulled the lever, then re-aimed and pulled the trigger. He hit the target. It was no where near the middle, but he was beaming. So was Jane.

**Beat Houdini High!**

It was time for her date with Doug. Mischief was feeling like she had lost thirteen years somehow as she waited at her parents' home. Her mother was correcting homework and her dad was cussing at some reports he was reading. The biggest change was that he didn't have to drop everything and leave town to help with flooding or water quality problems all over the state anymore.

Mischief heard a truck. "Hell no, I don't want to go out in a pickup.", she thought. Then she remembered where she was living. Unlike when they were seventeen, Doug came to the door. He was wearing chinos, a denim shirt and a leather jacket.

"Hi You look great.", he said.

"And you look nice. Where are we going?"

"Bowling alley?" He looked a little worried.

"Sure. I haven't bowled in ages." Mischief opened her purse and peeked to be sure she had her anti-bacterial spray. They went out to his truck. It wasn't rusted, dinged, or covered in primer. There was a gun rack in the back window, but no giant dog.

"That's a pretty nice truck."

"Thanks. I needed a better one with all the driving I'm doing for City Water. I'm a water quality inspector–kind of like your dad was."

"I hope without the being gone all the time."

They were driving now. Doug gave her a look. Yeah, I imagine you missed your dad when he wasn't there. I work for the city. I never leave the county. I supervise the filtration systems. And if our numbers indicate a problem, I get to go look for what is causing iot."

"Well, our water is amazing. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Here we are. Bowlarama."

They got out and went in where the smoke hit Mischief hard. She had been able to avoid it for years. Her eyes watered and she covered a cough.

"Hey Dougie!"

Mischief looked to see who called out. "Is that James Ames?"

"Yup."

"Rhymie!"

"Mischief Isles! How long have you been back? And stop calling me Rhymie."

"You started it by calling me Mischief."

"What else do you call a kid that gets the whole class to use finger paints to paint their faces?"

"We aren't little kids anymore. What size shoes do you wear", asked Doug.

"Eight." Rhimie handed her the shoes. "Thank you, James." She went over behind a post and sprayed the shoes with her anti-bacterial spray. Then she laced them on. Doug was still yaking with Rhymie.

Mischief was going over the balls, seeing what fit. There was a league gathered at one lane, all wearing matching black and silver bowling shirts labeled, "Senior League.". She noticed Cora Beach and Howard Mason talking to–oh my God! That was Doctor Pike. His hair was white, and he had lost weight. His body slumped, and his face held a bewildered look. Then he walked a few steps–the slow shuffle that told her more than she wanted to be true. Howard looked over at her, then spoke to Doctor Pike, who glared at her and started to walk over to her. He radiated anger.

"Doctor Isles! I understand you moved here to drive me out of business. What on earth makes you believe you are qualified? I have been this city's doctor since before you are born."

He was furious. Combative was the clinical term.

"Hello Doctor Pike. I'm a Pediatrician. I work with children. As I recall they are not your favorite patients."

"I probably delivered them. There is not room in this town for two doctors. Go back to Green Bay!" and he stalked away.

Doug spoke from behind her. "Wow! We have got to get him to retire. And those old gossips are pouring gasoline on the situation. Are you Okay?"

"I didn't know he was this bad. I'm concerned he might make a big mistake. Somebody could die."

Doug closed his eyes, then looked at Mischief..."Should we go? I had no idea."

"I'm sorry. I'm distracted because of this whole situation. Want to go check out the place I'm buying?"

Doug smiled. "Okay. Can you get inside?"

"Remember who you are with."

"Oh yeah, the trophy case wars.", he chuckled.

**Yay Lumberjacks! Go Team Go!**

They drove down to where the office would be located, parked and Mischief went up to the stoop, fiddled with a bobby pin and the door opened.

"I don't think the lights are on yet." She tried the light switch, and nothing happened.

"I have a maglight in my truck." Doug ran to his truck dug around and returned with a big maglight. The beam was like a yellow spotlight. Doug used it to explore the room.

"Hey, nice. No furniture or anything?"

"Not yet. It's going to be interesting finding everything here. I guess I'll be ordering a lot of things on the internet."

"I'll help. Do your folks have anything in their attic? You can put a sign up at Suds Your Duds, and an ad in the Gazette."

"Good ideas. My living quarters will be downstairs. Not a stick of furniture and no appliances. The lock is too hard for me, but I'll invite you over once I actually own it."

"Oh heck, I'll help you move in–deal?"

"Yes deal. Thanks! You always were nice to me–even when I was being..."

"Adventurous?"

"More like a dumb teenager."


	9. Chapter 9

Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 9

by Simahoyo

**A/N Clue: Look for Italics. One hint is known for where she lived long after she was born.**

Mischief posted ads, checked Craig's list, asked people, rummaged in her parent's attic and worked out a labor exchange with Tommy. She also shopped the internet.

Within two weeks, she had most of what she needed. She also had four helpers to move her in. She had spent the previous day cleaning to her standards. Part of her regretted knowing so much about bacteria and mold. She was determined to make a visit to her office as safe for her patients as possible.

She and Jane took the lightest items, clothing, supplies, tools bedding and so forth, while Doug, Tommy and her father moved office furniture, her furniture, the appliances and other heavy items.

Four hours later, they were sitting on her new (to her) sofa, drinking beer and eating sandwiches Angela had sent to them. Actually, Tommy was sprawled on the floor, leaning on an arm of the sofa. Jane was crosswise on the easy chair. Mischief smiled to herself. "Looks like that chair has been adopted.", she thought.

"That was a real workout. Is that all of it?", asked Doug.

"Almost. I'll need to unpack and get some groceries. I also need to figure out how to get around."

Tommy's face lit up. "Oh yeah, Frankie found something for you."

Mischief gave him a questioning look.

"What was it?", asked Jane with her usual lack of patience.

Tommy's eyes widened. Oh yeah, a sweet little VW Rabbit. Works good and doesn't look like hell. If you want, you can pay it off when you can."

Mischief's face worked. She was really touched. "That is very nice of you. How much will it cost?"

"We figured fifteen hundred. We know you spent everything to move in here, so..."

"I think it's great. Could I start using it right away?"

"You need to register and licence it."

"Oh God, you're using your Mayor voice, Dad. I'll get all that."

"I'll take you to do all that.", offered Jane.

"Thank you! And thanks to all of you. I just hope I start getting some patients in here."

"Hell, everybody's scared to go to Pike.", said Tommy.

"Ma got a call–they started a prayer chain to help Pike remain the only doctor in town."

"You mean a gossip chain. They did that to us when your brother died. It's why we changed churches."

Mischief looked at her father, surprised. "You never told me that."

"Now you know why your mother hates gossip."

"Wow. Now I'm worried."

"Mischief, all the Rizzolis will come here. And between the four of us, we are always spraining, breaking or scraping something.", said Jane.

Tommy laughed. "Yeah, but you beat the rest of us ten to one."

Jane just blushed, then perked up. "You have the Mayor on your side, and the high school principal, and Ma, she'll tell everybody."

"The Amazing Rizzolis and Barry..fill your tank, hear about the Great Doctor Isles. Repair your I Phone, another recommendation."

Doug grinned. "Me."

"Keep in mind that Jessup alone has more than six thousand people, then you have _Moorehead_, _Welles_ and _Corby_. The newspaper covers the whole county–and parts of _Farber_ county are closer to Jessup than to _Edna_."

Tommy was practically bouncing–"And all those Westerhausens that live in _Tracy_. Dr. Pike divorced one of them and they remember things like that."

"That was before I was born." said Mischief.

Mr. Isles stood up. "I have a bunch of meetings tomorrow, so I'm getting home." Mischief stood up and they hugged.

"Thanks so much, Daddy."

After Jane's elbow in his ribs, Tommy joined her as she stood and stretched. "That was a workout. Better than a gym. We have to go."

"Thanks guys."

Doug remained. "Piggly Wiggly?"

"Yup, and I promise not to take forever."

It was late enough that the store was fairly empty, so they could zoom along without having to stop and talk to more than three people. Mischief had fun getting fresh produce from Mitchel's Greenhouse. It was pricey, but she loved her greens. She got lake fish, cheese from farmers she knew, and fresh Italian bread, looked back and gave in to a craving for Kaiser buns.

She needed everything, quinoa, milk, stevia...then she went back for onions and tomatoes.

"Ha, I knew you couldn't pass those up. Salad dressing?"

"Knew I forgot something."She grabbed some fresh herbs, got olive oil and grown up mustard.

"I never told anyone this, but I was still using kiddie mustard when I was in high school."

Mischief giggled. "I promise not to tell."

**Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin**

They managed to find a place for all the groceries, and the fridge she got from her parents' basement worked fine. That being done, Doug turned to Mischief.

"So, shall we inaugurate your bed?"

She stepped back. Her face was serious. "I don't think so, Doug. I'm trying to get a practice started, and you, technically, are still married."

Doug's face fell. "You sure thought differently when we were in high school."

"You weren't married, technically or otherwise, and we were kids. I'm sorry. I guess I led you on, but I like you. You're a good man. I never was that good a woman."

"Bull Hockey!. I'm sick to death of you putting yourself down. I get why you want to wait until I'm actually divorced. I'm not mad. Hell, I've lived in gossip central since I was six years old without much a a break. Go ahead and build your practice. I'll support it whichever way things turn out between us."

**Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin**

Frankie was worried. If he heard back from his father, the answer might be, "No." and then how could he afford school? If the answer was, "Yes", would his mother and Jane ever speak to him again?

Frankie googled college scholarship. His grades weren't super great, but the were mostly above c+.

"Man, there's a lot of these, but I'm not a high school senior anymore."

He traveled the labyrinth of links–minority, female, Gay–he did not begrudge any one needing those, but he needed a scholarship for an older, straight, Italian America male. Then he noticed two weird categories. He called his mother.

"Hi Ma, got a sec?"

"It's still rush hour. What?"

"We have any ancestors who fought in the Civil War?"

"I'll look and tell you later."

Frankie suddenly remembered the rule his mother had drummed into their heads since they were kids–"Never call during the lunch or dinner rush." He rested his head on his hands. At least his sister hadn't called to chew him out yet.

The station bell sounded and he filled the pastor's tank. Tommy was heating something out of a can in the microwave. It didn't look very good, especially after he added all that cheese in a can. Frankie shuddered at the thought.

The bell sounded again, and Frankie went out before looking to an angry sister in a squad car.

"We need to talk."

"It's Tommy's lunch break."

"Get in. We can talk until someone needs you."

Frankie dragged himself into the passenger seat.

"What were you thinking? Living with Pop and Jeanette for two years! That's insane. You don't like either of them and it will hurt Ma's feelings. Don't be a jerk–she's had enough trouble thanks to those two."

"Don't you think I know that? You already went to school before Pop took off, and I started working at the garage to keep the business afloat and not be a burden on Ma."

"But you kept your savings."

"She told me to. She insisted."

Jane was silent. She blinked her eyes, then turned to face her brother. "Oh. Nobody told me."

"Yeah, well, you know it's useless to argue with her."

"Oh yeah!", Jane rolled her eyes.

"So, do you still plan to draw and quarter me?"

"Uh, no. I might even help you figure out how to pay for everything."

"Do we have an ancestor who fought in the Civil War?"

"Not on Pop's side. They came over about 1880."

"What about Ma's side?"

"Maybe, they were part of the Italian community in New Orleans. And there was some guy that landed in Connecticut early enough to be a whaler. Why?"

"If I have an ancestor in the Civil War, there are scholarships–for either side."

"Damn. I wish had found that out before I went to school. If you get a scholarship, you won't have to worry about pissing Ma off by staying off by staying with Pop and Jeanette."

Frankie crossed his fingers. "Yeah. That would be great."

**Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin**

The VW Rabbit was actually in pretty good shape. It ran well, didn't have a drinking problem, or burn oil, and make a lot of noise. The heater worked–a necessity in Wisconsin, and Mischief was happy to have her own transportation.

She put an ad in the Gazette, then on WBONB radio–letting people know that her office would be open in two weeks.

She found some good people after applying for hospital privileges at _Golda Mier Hospital_ and found out about the list of available staff kept by the hospital administration. She found two she liked who interacted well with young children–...

She had been asleep when a flickering light woke her. She raced to the window to discover a bonfire had been built in her parking lot. She called the volunteer fire department, who called the sheriff's office and the South County Deputy came over with Jane.

"Whoa! What the hell happened?", asked Jane

"Obviously someone started a fire in my parking lot."

"Have you seen what's on your office door?", asked the Deputy.

"Excuse me, Deputy, but I don't know your name."

"Sorry. It's Ed Bixby. Everyone calls me Bix."

"No, I didn't see the front. Let's go."

The three went up to the office, opened the door, and spray painted across the front was...

"Quack go back to Green Bay!"

"Was it Pike?", asked Jane.

"He's too far gone to manage it. This has to be one of his supporters."

"Bix you're good at fingerprints–want to dust this area?"

Bix grinned and popped the trunk on his squad car, got the fingerprint kit and stared to dust the area around the spray paint.

"Of course most of the prints would be on the spray can, but I am an optimist, and I am hoping for stupid."

As Bix kept dusting, a whole hand print appeared as if the vandal had leaned against the wall. Bix grinned. "I love stupid." Bix carefully lifted the print. "And we don't even have to run this down to Wausau." He put a sheet of white paper under the lifted print and photographed it. Then he emailed it to the crime lab.

Jane dropped her voice so only Mischief could hear. "You sure this isn't just some old. Disgruntled boyfriend from your wild days?"

"I hope not. Who is related to Pike here in town?"

Jane scratched her cheek. "He came here from Michigan, so, I'll have to ask Hannah Moore. She knows all that stuff. As a matter of fact, she could help Frankie find a scholarship if we have any Civil War ancestors."

"I'd go with you, but I'll have to clean up the mess. When can I clean that off?" Mischief said, pointing to the message.

"I'd take a scraping of the paint, but since there are only two places it could come from, go ahead. And the fire department already proved iy was gasoline. Do you own any grubbies?"

"Yes, I own gardening clothes.", Mischief's town was mock exasperated.

Jane hugged ger friend and the two deputies headed out. Mischief went to change her clothes. It was going to be a long day.


	10. Chapter 10

Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 10

by Simahoyo

The library was pretty quiet. Frankie got there without school kids grabbing every computer in sight and staring at anyone over the age of eighteen as if they didn't belong there.

Hannah Moore had a sense for who needed help. She hurried over to Frankie.

"Hello. What are you looking for?"

"Ma gave me some names and dates of ancestors who were in the Civil War, and if I can prove it, I can apply for scholarships."

"Oh, a basic genealogy search. Show me the names and dates."

_Francesco Caputo–Whaler. Arrived Groton, CT. 1848, from Sicily._

_Augusto Galli of New Orleans. B. 1841. Chef._

"Well, the times would work, and the places. Let's go to and see if they have anything on either ancestor."

Instead of leaning over his shoulder, Hannah sat next to him. He liked that much better. They did a search on Augusto Galli in the Confederate Army records. There were so many! Finally, there was Augusto Galli in the 4th company regiment. Ooops, surrendering. But he was there.

"Now what?"

"Print it. Did your mother post a page on Ancestry?"

"Maybe."

"Let's find out." She typed in Rizzoli and several pages came up. She typed in Angela–and there were still a lot of pages. She put in Frank and Angela, and there were three–but one was in La Follette County, Wisconsin. A few more keystrokes, and there it was.

"There I am!"

"Yes, now take notes or print it all out, go back to your Galli and Caputo ancestors showing all the all the connections and where she got the information.

"Your printer is going to get a workout. Don't I have to give you a bunch of quarters?"

"No, just pay me after you print them all. Then we find the scholarships. I believe we can get you off to school by June."

**Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin Jessup, Wisconsin**

Jeff Wieser was happy to drive over to Jessup to see Jane. She was unlike any other woman he had ever met. She was a breath of fresh air. She loved sports–and she worked him hard whenever they played any form of ball. Plus, she was fast. He had to really move to catch her. She also felt really good once he did catch her. Today he was going to meet Jane's best friend. He had heard a few things about this doctor–and knew the two of them had gotten up to some crazy things as teens. Jeff figured that would be long over.

He was, however, intrigued that Jane's friend was still called Mischief. Either the people of Jessup were slow to get rid of childhood nicknames–witness his life-long attempts to ditch being called, "The Weezer." Or, what? His lawyerly mind was itching to know more, especially as it involved Jane. He pulled up to Midge's, hopped out and ran up the stairs to Jane's. He rapped on the door, Jane jerked it open and threw herself at him.

"That's what I call a warm welcome."

"More to come later, but first we go find Mischief–unless you need the john?"

"God, how did she do that?", he thought.

When Jeff returned Jane was smirking at him. They delayed their start for a few minutes–then they took off to meet this Mischief person.

Jeff expected either another Jane, or her exact opposite, so when the walked into The Farm Table, and up to a beautiful blonde dressed better than anyone he knew. Jeff as a bit muddled.

"Hey Mischief. This is Jeff."

She smiled, reached out a manicured hand and took his. Her grip was strong, but not confrontational, and her hand was warm. Here eyes were green with a yellowish light under the green.

"Hi. It is nice to meet you."

"Please, let's sit and order something."

"Interesting. They are not much alike, but they are both gorgeous.", he thought.

They sat together, facing Jane's friend.

"Jane loves baseball. I'm not surprised she's dating a pitcher."

"Yeah, I noticed from the way she jumps up and down in the bleachers. She's enthusiastic."

"Always has been. I get my exercise in other ways." Her voice implied her exercise was mainly sexual.

Jane reached out and play slapped her arm. "Behave."

Mischief pouted, then grinned. "Okay–so Jeff, what's the job they pay you for?"

"I'm a lawyer for my whole county. I help them see if someone decides they are above the law."

"Oh. That sounds interesting."

"Not often, but I had a good one. The head of one family had this huge building anybody could see. It was on a hill outside of town. He decided he was above paying taxes."

"I like taxpayers. They pay me.", said Jane.

"So, I went over the tax assessments and maps. Turns out he had divided the building with this wife and three kids. So one owned all the elevators, one had half the parking lot and four offices. Another had half a tennis court and the lobby...you get the idea."

"Wow! That was underhanded.", said Mischief,

"And a pain in the butt too. My office went crazy sorting it out, and re-doing the taxes. I finally got the county to pass a law against that type of tax dodge."

Mischief applauded. "Good. I might have been a challenge as a teenager, but I finally grew up..."

She looked a question at Jane.

"Yes, you did. Hell, you're a doctor now."

..."And I now disapprove of lawbreaking."

Jeff hid a smile. These two were something together. They could be highly entertaining.

Jane leaned into Jeff. "Speaking of law breaking, she had some jerk go over to her place and set a fire in her parking lot–they also spray painted the front of her business."

Jeff turned to Mischief with lawerly interest. "Do you have any idea who might have done it?"

"We got a hand print, but he's not in the system.", offered Jane.

Jeff looked at Jane. "Is there anything special about the hand

print?"

"The hand was huge."

"From the size, it would indicate the culprit was approximately six feet eight inches.", said Mischief.

"Sounds like somebody I used to know."

Both women looked at him, shocked.

"Who?", they asked together.

"Hey, I doubt it was him. He was just tall. He played basketball, and had huge hands. His name was Hans O'Malley, but Coach and everyone called him, 'Hands'"

"I can't think why some guy in Iron River would try to drive her out of town. It's not like he's a relative of Doctor Pike.", said Jane.

Jeff jerked his head back. "Uh, Doctor Pike? That's Hans' grandfather."

"Oh boy, I guess we have a suspect. Sorry, I gotta call Bix and Jill. I'll be right back."

Jane got up and went out the door for her phone call.

Mischief was both nervous and grateful. She turned those eyes on him. I think you gave us the missing puzzle piece. Thank you.

"I'm happy to help."Jane walked back in , and slide in next to Jeff.

"All done. Thanks sweety.", and she kissed him. "Now I'm hungry. Let's eat!"


	11. Chapter 11

Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 11

bt Simahoyo

**A/N Thank you for the newest favorites and follows, and reviews! This is what everything was apparently heading up to: **

**CLUES: Les Paul, Golda Mier, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Edna Farber, Frank Lloyd Wright, Orson Welles, Spencer Tracy, Harry Houdini, Ellen Corby, Angnes Moorhead...All have one thing in common.**

**Chapter 11**

It started in the middle of summer–typical oppressive heat coming up out of the ground like the heat from a radiator. The humidity drained the energy out of everyone but the plants, which grew with enthusiasm.

Isles Pediatrics Clinic was doing well. Arresting and fining Hans, "Hands" O'Malley took the ommmph out of the pro-Pike movement, Mischief and her mother had taken a weekend to paint the walls with fun cartoon animals and kids. It being Northern Wisconsin, the animals tended to cows, dogs, chickens and pigs. The kids tended to overalls, jeans and other favorite items of local fashion. Mischief thanked her mother, not just for the help, but for making her learn to draw, sketch and paint.

In late June. Polly Loden was brought in with nausea and vomiting. Her mother said she didn't have a fever. She just sat, not wiggling or kicking the chair.

"Polly, does your head hurt?"

"Uh huh. And my tummy."

Mischief put the thermometer in Polly's ear. That was odd. No fever. She listened to the little girls breather. Her lungs were clean.

"Polly, push my hand down as had as you can. Polly tried with both hands, and Mischief's hand barely moved.

"Marsha–is Polly allergic to any foods?"

"No, she always seemed to have a cast iron stomach."

"Do you mind if I check out your house? There could be a mold someplace behind a wall, or a plant nearby she may have sampled."

Polly was the first one. Then there was Will Hood. He had the same symptoms They were the first trickle. In two weeks, it had become a flood–and patients now included adults. She took cultures, looked for environments molds, household cleaners...Then a suspicion crossed her mind. Being her father's daughter, she took a water sample from her sickest patients, and called Doug to test the water.

Later that day the telephone rang and Fran Mueller got it. She motioned to Mischief. Her face was serious. Mischief took the phone.

"Mis–it's Doug. I found a lot of Carbon Tetrachloride in the water. Get everyone on bottled water now."

Mischief knew what a water quality problem could become. She wrote out the text of a note, and handed it to Fran.

"The water is bad. Please type this up and run a lot of copies."

She picked up her celle phone and called the Radio Station, KBOB, then the Gazette. After catching her breath, she called her father's office..

"Daddy–Doug found Carbon Tet in the drinking water."

"God. We have to let people know. I'll call the state–I'll tell Doug I'll help him search the source. You should notify the dry cleaners. Put a sign up in the Piggly Wiggly—call Angela to organize the restaurants. Call your mother. I'll have an on-line meeting with the..."

"...City Council. Breathe, Daddy. I'll do my part. Love you. Bye."

It was in this type of situation that the gossips came in handy. After getting through her father's list, she sent Sandy Johnson out with a huge armload of notices and two rolls of tape. Then she made a point to called Mattie Krause.

"Mattie, hi. This is Doctor Isles. I believe you'll want to start a prayer chain. Our drinking water was tested today and they found Carbon Tetrachloride–it's a poison."

"Oh My. That's terrible. How do you spell Terachlroine?"

"T-e-t-r-a-c-h-l-o-r-i-d-e." It was the water making the children sick. Tell people to drink bottled water, And not to used it to wash dishes or make coffee."

"I'll do it. Thank you."

Mischief saw patients until Sandy came back without any notices."Wow, Sandy, you must have been everywhere."

"Just about. I hit the dry cleaners, Piggly Wiggly, Library, all the restaurants, cafes, Laundrymats, schools, your mother says,'hi.', garage, taverns and what was left I taped on light poles."

"I'm impressed. Please, sit down and rest after all that work."

After work, Mischief went to the Piggly Wiggly and Wallgreens to check their bottled water supply.

Ralph Maus headed right for her the second she came in the door..

"Bottled water? I've already been hit hard and I'm nearly out. Come and look."

She followed the balding man as he hurried to his forlorn display of bottled water. Only five cases remained and a man with a shopping cart was in the act of taking one of them.

"How soon can you get more?"

"Usually in two weeks, but I'm running a truck up to Superior to get a truck load. Do you know how long the cleanup will take?"

"City Water would know more about that. We just found out about the contamination today. Now they have to find out where it's coming from."

"Yeah, you father used to do that I suppose he's on it."

"He is. Thanks for your help. I'm going to run over to Wallgreens and talk to them."

It was a short drive over to Wallgreens, and Mischief walked over to the bottled water. The display was pretty sparse. She felt someone walk over to her, turned and smiled at Rhoda Schmidt.

"Checking on our water?"

"Yes. I guess people know."

"They haven't been looking in this section." and she lead Mischief to an inner shelf and pointed to the bottom. There were the gallon and larger water bottles.

"They never think of these unless they are going camping. We have a couple of hundred, and we can get more in Wausau. I'm not worried."

"You are so prepared. Good work. I think I'll take two of those big ones."

"Can you lift them?"

"I lift kids all day. No problem."

Doug was driving up the river, above the intake valve, with Mr James Isles himself.. They had a lot of test containers nestled in the back of his truck, wrapped, in bubble wrap, and surrounded by burlap sacks. Every few hundred feet, they would stop, mark the place on the map and sample the water. The scary part was-he wanted to talk, and not just about water.

"It was nice of you to help Maura move."

Doug had to think a second was to who Maura was. "I was happy to help. That was a heck of a lot of stuff."

Mr. Isles smiled. "Doctor's offices do use a lot of equipment. She was clever how she managed to buy it all."

"She always was smart."

"She told me you gave her some good shopping tips."

"She hasn't lived here in years, so I wanted to help her out."

Mr. Isles out the window–then his face changed.

"Stop. Look at the water."

"The color is different. Let's test this."

They marked the map and went down to test. There were dead fish floating in the water. They looked at each other and didn't need to say a word. Doug got a stick and pulled a fish out of the water, while Mr Isles got a water sample.

"I'm definitely washing my hands after that.", said Doug.

Mr. Isles stopped and looked up the riverbank. There was a trickle of something going down into the water. "We'll want the camera."

Doug grabbed the camera and photographed the trickle, the two men followed it up stream until they came to a huge tank leaking from a corroded spot at the bottom. Doug took a photo, while Mr. Isles tested the stuff leaking out.

Then Doug looked up–_Colossal Paper Products_ was painted on the tank. He photographed the sign.

"I never heard of them.", said Doug.

"They went out of business before you were born."

Cooking with bottled water was a pain in the butt. Twila Westerhausen filled another cooking pot with bottle after bottle of water. "Better than being poisoned, "She mumbled with a shrug. They would become the soup of the day

She had taped the faucet handles together to stop herself from using them out of habit. She had filled a pan with water to wash veggies in. Unfortunately the soup of the day was borsch. Beets are dirty. Twila had to keep changing the water. She needed to have a chat with Angela about the menu.

Twila stuck her head out of the serving window. There were only a few regulars at tables. She caught Angela's eye and made a , "Talk to you", sign. Angela nodded, finished pouring coffee and came back to the kitchen,

"Not easy. I know."

"Could we change the menu until we can use city water again?"

Angela considered. "Okay. Fry more, bake, steam instead of boil–you know."

"Yes. What do you recommend?"

"No more soup of the day–actually, no more soup. Make one big pot of rice, another of pasta. Keep them cold until you need them. Go Southern. Fry when you usually would boil. Fried Potatoes, saute sauces, use those German recipes you grew up on...wait, wasn't your great something grandmother Southern? Do that kind of thing. Write up a menu and we can brainstorm later.

I'll make a notice, "Due to the water emergency, we have changed the menu, bla, bla, bla. Good?"" offered Angela.

Twila grinned and got to thinking and writing as well as cooking. No matter what, people would get good food.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Jessup, Wisconsin, Chapter 12**

**Winners!****Allbottledup and afret2010.****This whole story is dedicated to my family who have been living with a terrible winter, drought and coal ash in the water. NOBODY deserves bad water.**

Chapter 12

Once they knew what caused the problem, city water and the mayor held an emergency meeting of the city council. It was the first time everyone stayed awake. They walked everyone through the problem, and even had a slide show. When they finished, Mayor Isles asked, "Any questions?", which was like putting out raw meat and taking the cover off.

"Who do we sue?", hollered Nina Rorbach. She needed to turn up her hearing aid.

"Who will clean this up?" That was Jim Gantry, who expected to be answered first.

Mayor isles looked around the room, until people shut up. It was a teacher's trick he had learned from his wife.

"Both of the questions are about whose carbon tetrachloride is leaking out of whose tank. The problem is it belongs to Colossal Paper, and as most of you know, they don't exist anymore."

"Well Hell, then who do we sue?", Nina was at it again.

"We need to know who owns the property. We need an expert. Doug, here, knows a man who is an expert title searcher, Lennis Patterson. He will find out who owns the land, and if it's a company, track down the owners."

"Why this guy?", asked Ron Lewis.

"He knows his stuff and is lowering his fee because he's a friend of Doug's and wants to help."

The argument the followed ended as usual, with the mayor paying the difference out of his own pocket.

**All day I face the barren waste without the taste of water, cool water**

Lennis was in the Assessor's office when it opened. He was hoping for an easy search–like that would ever happen. The records of property taxes in the Assessor's office wouldn't jib with the address.

So, he went to the Recorder's office. The plat book drawing wouldn't fit the property description. He drew out the description to make his own map. Something was wrong. Now he had to go backward and see when the description had changed.

Running it back, Lennis also kept an eye on changes of ownership. It was double sized back in 1954, when Colossal went out of business. The land went to a Sheriff's sale, and went to La Follette County. Going forward, it became the property of County Parks in 1968, then was sold to G. Robert Tell. Lennis groaned. Not G. Robert Tell! He was as crooked as Birch Creek. The descriptions started to change. Tell was one of those despised by both title and tax searchers. They worked the system trying to get out of paying taxes. Confusion was one of their favorite weapons. That explained the differing maps.

Lennis got out his onion skin pad and made a separate map for each description. There were eight in all, covering the original property. He went over to the Treasurer's office to check back property taxes. He was kind of hoping his favorite assistant would be in, but the office was empty. He checked his watch. Oh, their soap opera was on. Oh well. He dug through their card files and lined up the cards that covered any part of that land description. The days of Colossal's ownership showed years of unpaid taxes leading to the sheriff's sale–then, while it was county property–not taxes. He liked this Treasurer's office. They didn't leave gaps in information. Once G. Robert Tell got his hands on it, it split like a cancer cell. It was divided up among his family members–a favorite ploy of tax evaders–but that long ago Treasurer was onto him, and every inch of the land was taxed. That's what lead to the trouble.

Mrs. Tell would let her portion go until the last possible year, then pay back taxes. Robert G. Did the same, and so did the daughter–but the old man lost track and his land was sold out from under him. To Bill Munro, the banker. Maybe it was a pattern. Lennis couldn't let go of it now, even if the pretty doctor walked in with a hot lunch.

Mrs. Tell was smarter than her hubby, even after he died, she paid the taxes–so the did the kids until 1983, when she passed on, and Bill Munro bought it. Lennis felt like dancing. 1985, the kids gave up and sold to Munroe. Did he finally have the owner?

He found the last card, and the owner was listed as, _Ski Trail Unlimited.". _"Oh Hell!" Now he put everything on the copy machine and ran copies. Then he put it all back in the files and back to the Assessor's office.

This assessor knew his stuff, but his predecessor had left a mess. Fortunately, the smartest guy in the office saw him come in. Les pushed his bulk up from his reinforced, chair and came over.

"Hi, Lennis. You look...frustrated."

"Thank God you're here. I got a G. Robert Tell special."

"Ugh! Guys like that give humans a bad name. What did he leave for you now?"

"He got bought out by Bill Munro. Now I need to check out, _Ski Trails Unlimited."_

Les looked thoughtful. "That explains the sudden interest in clear cutting around there. So, let's see what our corporations book has to say."

They went into a side room and Les looked through bound books until he found one special volume. He put it on the shelf used for reading and flipped through it. He jabbed his finger at the name.

"How do you do that?", asked Lennis.

"I have land records ESP." Les Grinned. "Actually my dad was Assessor in Wood County."

"Interesting. Munro got rid of it to some people down in Madison. I think, my friend, we got it."

"Yeah maybe I can go eat lunch. It's four-thirty."

**Old Dan and I with throats burned dry and souls that cry for water, cool, clear, water**

Mayor Isles felt as if everything was crashing down on his head. They found out who owned the property with the tank leaking into their drinking water. They sued, and the business went bankrupt the next day. Jane's lawyer friend was trying to help but everyone was pointing fingers at him. Constance was his rock, and it was a good thing because Maura was depressed. She took the whole situation personally–so he spent hours listening to her and wiping away her tears.

Doug's friend from the title company was very helpful, but there was a legal logjam that was keeping him from doing anything. Isles had hoped his old contacts at the state would help, but they were dealing with seepage from old lead mines into the water table in Southern Wisconsin. He needed a new idea, and to be honest, his brain hurt.

**The nights are cool and I'm a fool each star's a pool of water, cool water**

Barry was supposed to be finding and removing a virus from the library computer. He really was running a program to find the darned thing and thinking how they could do something to clean up the water. He picked up his smart phone and called Tommy.

"Hey Tom, I have an idea,"

"Yeah? Did it hurt?"

"Ha! Could you move one of your cameras to where that tank is leaking into the water? Use the excuse you are trying to get pictures of the Dog Headed man?"

"You betcha! We could show the leak going into the water and anybody walking around out there. I'll use two cameras. I'll call you when I finish."

"Thanks, man."

"No problem."

Part one of Barry's plan was in place. Barry slapped his forehead. "Way to go, dumb kid!"

He made another call.

"Hey Mom."

"My goodnes. Do my ears deceive me Could it be my only son calling? I haven't heard from you since last time you needed money."

"Real funny, Mom. How's it going at the Zoo?"

"Great. I got coverage of our new baby zebra state-wide."

"You are the best."

"Uh oh. What do you need, Barry?"

"It's not for me, it's for the town. Do you remember Colossal Paper?"

"Yes, that old mess up in the hills. What about it?"

"An old tank is leaking carbon tetrachloride into our drinking water." Barry was shocked at her reply.

"Umm, I never heard you say that before."

"Sorry. I think this problem might take a day or two of hard thought. I'll call you back. And don't you dare brush your teeth with that water."

"Yes Ma'am."

**And with the dawn I wake and yawn and carry on to water, cool, clear, water**

Mayor Isles was very pleased to hear from Camille Frost. For one thing, she was everyone's favorite fifth grade teacher, and she was an expert at public relations.

"You know, if you put a spotlight of publicity on this mess, the owners will try to bury it as fast as possible. My suggestion is you set up a fund and do your own cleanup. That way you know it's done right. You find out the price. I'll use my contacts to get both publicity and help pay for the cleanup."

"Mrs. Frost, you are a saint."

"Let's see how this turns out before you write the Pope. Okay?"

As it turned out Tommy's cameras proved the source of their water problem, and they got news crews starting with Superior and Wausau, then Minnesota and Michigan. Mayor Isles nearly flipped when he found himself being interviewed by Amy Goodman and Rachel Maddow.

Thanks to the publicity, old friends came through with hazardous materials drumsenough to get rid of all the carbon tetrachloride. Now, the real work started. Someone sent them haz mat suits, so several of the football players volunteered to wear them to put the carbon tet into the haz mat drums. Barry Frost filmed it all. Some fellows from the sawmill brought over a truck load of sawdust to absorb anything that might leak from moving the original container, while builders wrapped it with leak proof plastic and taped it all into place.

Now the place was cluttered with Haz Mat drums and other dangerous containers. Where to put them? He debated with the city council, loudly, for over two hours, when Hannah Moore drove up. She climbed the hill, shaking her head.

"If you would all please shut up, I know where to put them."

There was a sudden short, silence. "Remember the old town bomb shelter?"

"Yeah. But I don't remember where it was.", said Jim Gantry.

"I have a map.", said Hannah.

A really strange thing happened. The silence stretched so long they could hear the birds, the little animals scurrying in the brush...then voices rushed to fill that silence.

"What?,where?,Was it in the...Map?...library?"

Hannah waited for a pause then jumped in fast.

"I have the map with me. It's not far from here and I believe it is the solution to our problem."

After the required fifteen minute argument, they all got in their cars and trucks to follow Hannah. They went up the narrow, paved road to a gravel road, then down two ruts running parallel to each other in the dirt.

Hannah stopped at a tar paper shack sticking up over a large slab of concrete-Big enough for a championship game against Houdini High.

"This is it."

"What is it? The shack? One good windstorm and it will fly to Lake Michigan!", shouted Nina Rorbach.

"It's underneath.", explained Hannah.

"Oh. How do we get in?", asked Mayor Isles.

"It's never been locked, but nobody knew that. Let's see." She walked up, with the city officials following like ducklings. She pushed on the door, and it did open after a bit of protest. Hannah took a flashlight out of her purse, shook it, and turned it on. The bravest and nosiest followed her.

At the bottom was a Huge, concrete, bomb proof space carpeted with empty beer cans and bottles.

"Okay, it needs to be cleaned out, but we can put more than double the drums we have in here."

"Yeah, but we'd have to fix that door."

Since they were all there anyway, they took a vote to make the old bomb shelter the new hazardous waste storage unit–and to fix the door.

**Keep a-movin' Dan, don't you listen to him Dan, He's a devil not a man and he spreads the burning sand with water, **

By the end of the month, the site was clean to Mayor Isles' exacting standards, which meant the contaminated dirt was also removed and stored. Doug and City Water went to work on cleaning the water itself–and now Jessup's water was safe to drink.

Oddly, instead of joining in the general good cheer, Jane and Mischief were seen with their heads together–then with Doug, Tommy, Frankie and Barry. Those in the know wondered what they could be up to.

Doug's truck appeared in front of the warehouse where the city kept unused haz mat drums. A drum disappeared. The Rizzoli Garage was closed for the weekend while Doug's truck was seen on the road heading south with a big blue tarp over something about the size of an industrial drum. Tommy Rizzoli was in the passenger seat, and another person was seen sitting in the backseat.

Jane and Mischief went around looking like cats who had swallowed canaries. When asked about Tommy, Frankie or Doug, they changed the subject. On Monday, the missing men were back in their places and had nothing to say.

The following day, a legal envelope arrived for the Mayor from Madison. After opening it, Mayor Isles closed his door. It was a law suit from the current owners of _Ski Trails Unlimited VS City of Jessup. RE: The delivery of one drum containing hazardous waste (water) from the City of_ Jessup.

His dialing was loud enough to be heard through the door, and voice was much, much louder. "Maura Dorthea Isles! What have you been up to now?!"

**A/N In the US alone, our drinking water has suffered everything from oil spills, to coal ash, to chemical spills, to the leeching of radioactive waste into our water table. This needs to end. Check the statistic where you live.**


End file.
